


temporary ground

by Jenny_Jensen



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, F/M, True Love, mental health, sometimes i really just don't like Alice Cooper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:08:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21713506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenny_Jensen/pseuds/Jenny_Jensen
Summary: “Part of me wanted to believe that you had run away and never looked back,” Jughead cradles her jaw, sweeping his thumb across her bottom lip to free the skin from the confinements of her top teeth. “Why didn’t you?”
Relationships: Archie Andrews/Veronica Lodge, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 11
Kudos: 167





	temporary ground

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone for their kind words about my story :) :) :)
> 
> I was a little worried about how to portray mental health, but I think it's something everyone struggles with to a degree, and I'm glad the comments I've been getting have been positive about the way I wrote it.
> 
> Thank you again!

* * *

_Her hand curls into a fist, clipped nails digging into the soft part of her palm where the rest of her secret scars lay._

_“We can’t just give up,”_

_He laughs. Bitterly. She hates that sound._

_“Yes we can,”_

_“But-”_

_“For once in your life, just **let something go** ,” He says. He’s angry, and she can’t stand it when he’s angry, but it’s the first emotion he’s shown since the funeral a week ago, so she decides to sit back and accept it. “It’s over, it’s done, it’s decided, so please, if not for anyone else, then for me. **Let it go**.”_

_Her lip quivers._

_“Why does it feel like you’re trying to say goodbye to me?”_

_Sighing, he stands, tugging down his security blanket, the beanie she’s never seen him without. Tipping her chin up with a single finger, he smiles, but it’s not the one she craves._

_“Because I am,” he answers, closing his mouth over hers._

_He takes a lot of things that day, all of his belongings from his side of Archie’s room, the waffles Mr. Andrews woke up at the crack of dawn to make, but also her first kiss along with her heart._

* * *

“Open the door Elizabeth,”

She’s trying her best to sound calm and failing miserably, not wanting to alert the neighbors. Little does she know that she watched Mr. Andrews pull out of his driveway not even an hour before. With Archie long gone to New York with Veronica and Kevin, she is truly alone.

But her mother doesn’t need to know that.

“Elizabeth,” Alice’s tone is sickeningly sweet. “if you want to eat any time this week, you’ll be a good girl and open the door. _Now.”_

She can’t.

She won’t.

The desk pushed against the wood of her door can only buy her a few more moments. She has to get away.

Her window doesn’t lock.

The ladder isn’t there anymore, he never left it in fear Alice would find it and try to further cut their ties, but there is a drain pipe.

_“Elizabeth!”_

It’s now or never.

She slips one foot out and then the other.

* * *

Running used to be easy. Fun, even.

Chic would wake her up at the crack of dawn in the summer for his daily route around their perfectly perfect neighborhood when she was nine. Her legs were long, limbs lean and while she knew he only pretended to let her win during that last sprint into the house where things were a little less perfect, she still likes to pretend that she was faster.

It’s not fun anymore, it’s just an escape now, from her mother’s wrath, the window Chic shattered when he left, the track marks Polly’s two suitcases left against the polished wood floor that she can never get rid of no matter how hard she scrubs against them, the night her father finally unraveled and tried to end them all.

It’s raining. Misting. She can’t see her own two feet, only hear the sounds of branches snapping under the soles of her old white tennis shoes but she has to keep going. She doubts Alice is close behind, probably hasn’t even left the house.

It’s still good practice to pretend that she can be snatched back at any moment.

Her cheek stings, but she can barely feel it. She’s become numb to the force of blows that always send her toppling over, knowing it will only get worse if she gets back up.

“Well,” a deep voice drawls as her body collides into him. “what do we have here?”

She stumbles, arms wrapping around herself. It’s cold, so cold. Why didn’t she bring a jacket?

“What’s your name, baby doll?”

She doesn’t answer.

He snorts, like her defiance amuses him, and stalks towards her.

“I said, _what’s your name,_ bitch?”

When she still doesn’t respond, he forces her chin up with a single finger. She’s sure that her eyes are bloodshot from crying, and if he knew what her name was, he’d truly think she was crazy.

Insanity runs in the family, right? It’s what Alice has spent the last year trying to convince her, that she needs to be kept locked away, just in case she turns out to be _just like her father._

Maybe she is.

 _Don’t,_ her subconscious pleads, _don’t listen to Alice._

“Little girl lost,” he sneers, letting her go. “at least she’s pretty, right boys?”

 _Always be aware of your surroundings Betty_ , FP had told her once, before leaving her, Jughead and Archie to camp alone at Fox Forrest when they were twelve. Foolishly, she’s left him down.

She’s surrounded, one at her front, three other closing in on every side of her. She’s too tired to fight, and four against one never ends very fairly.

“I think you’re the one who’s lost, Casper,”

Four more emerge from the tress. Everyone besides her is wearing leather, but they’re clearly on different sides based solely on the gun gripped in the tallest boy’s right hand.

“Look who came out to play,” He throws back, grabbing her by the arm. “We found this bitch fair and square, _Snake.”_

Snake.

Her heart beats loudly inside of her chest.

She should hate Snakes, the Serpents, if only for taking her best friend away from her after the death of his father. She’s heard rumors, everyone in Riverdale has, of the infamous gang that often wreaks havoc on the Southside, but she’s never been one to judge, especially after spending the last eighteen years being raised by a serial killer and his wife, the self-proclaimed Queen of plausible deniability.

“You’re in our territory,” a deep voice booms.

“So is she,”

“Which makes her our problem to deal with then, doesn’t it?”

“I’d be more than happy to take her off your hands...”

His grip tightens.

“Sweet Pea, wait,”

It’s a girl’s voice, soft but sharp, and that surprises her.

Slowly, her vision returns. It’s not easy to make out their faces, but she can see the girl, slim, long hair tied back tight, standing on the tips of her toes to whisper something to the boy still wielding the gun.

Pointed right at her.

“You sure?” He demands.

“Positive,” she replies.

The gun isn’t pointed at her, she realizes, but the boy behind her, fingers indenting bruises into the pale skin of her left arm.

“The girl is ours,” Sweet Pea, she thinks that’s his name, declares. “now get the fuck out of here.”

“No way,” his laughter chills her to the bone. “this bitch looks too crazy not to fuck with, I’m taking her, and there’s nothing you _Snakes_ can do about it-”

Her ears ring.

The gun’s been fired, but not at anyone in particular. It’s a warning shot, held above Sweet Pea’s head.

It still does the trick.

The boys scatter, shoving her forward in their haste to get away. She lands face first on the ground, wet leaves sticking to the stringy strands of hair falling from her usually meticulous ponytail.

Timidly, she looks up.

“Please,” she whispers. “don’t kill me.”

Much to her surprise, they all burst out laughing.

“Fuckin’ Northsiders,” Sweet Pea snorts, gun disappearing behind his Serpents jacket. “they’re all the same. Stand up, Betty.”

She remains frozen in place. How does he know her name?

“I said, _stand up.”_

Maybe if she plays dead, they’ll all leave her alone.

It’s too much for her in the moment to realize that the Serpents, Riverdale’s own fearsome, drug smuggling, gun wielding gang, has just come to her rescue.

Sweet Pea shares a look with the boy standing to his right, shoulders dropping in a shrug before they take her by the arms, forcing her to her feet.

Her first instinct is to run. Again.

“This is getting old,” he mumbles, easily catching her wrist.

“I... I have to go...”

“You’re not going anywhere, darlin’,” One says, sounding amused. “Not when you’re lookin’ like this.”

“What happened to your face?” The girl demands. “Who hit you, Betty?”

She has to go, has to get back home before Alice can come find her. She tries to twist out of Sweet Pea’s grasp, but it only tightens.

She screams. It’s the only thing she has left, a last resort that ultimately fails.

He lets go of her wrist, clamping a hand over her mouth seconds after she opens it.

“She’s not gonna come willingly Toni,” he hisses.

Her eyes widen as she watches the girl, Toni, nod slowly, meeting her gaze. Sweet Pea touches her neck, squeezes softly, and catches her when she quickly goes limp and drifts away.

* * *

She’s burning up, but shivering when she comes to, her forehead is wet and a scratchy blanket has been pulled up to her chin. Reaching up, she tries to push the frayed wash cloth away. It’s only making her colder.

“Don’t,” a firm voice warns. “you have a fever Betts, this’ll help it go down.”

_Betts._

Her eyes spring open. He’s sitting at the edge of the wide bed, laptop balanced carefully on the edge of his knee.

“Jug,” she croaks.

It’s been two years since she’s seen him last, but the very sight of him, still wearing that crown shaped beanie, makes her heart nearly leap out of her chest.

He’s as beautiful as he was at sixteen, kissing her before he was whisked away to the unknown of the Southside.

At the sound of her voice, he closes the laptop, sets it aside and lays down across from her. Despite his earlier words, he removes the cool cloth from her head, throwing it down, laying his palm across her temple, gently petting her hair back.

“You’re burning up,” disapproval drips from his tone. “what the hell are you doing here, Betty? _Out there?_ I thought...”

She struggles to sit up.

He sighs, pinning her with a single look. “Never mind.”

“Juggie...”

“Never mind Betty,” he repeats, hand remaining on her head, fingers slowly luring her back into a peaceful sleep as he plays with the soft strands of her hair. “sleep now baby, we can talk about all of this later.”

Her eyes lull shut at his gentle command.

* * *

Her temperature is gone when she wakes up again.

So is the outfit she originally wore upon leaving her mother’s house, the long sleeved pink shirt, the jeans from high school, her white tennis shoes with the frayed laces. In their place is a soft gray t-shirt, an eerily familiar black and white checkered flannel and a park of thick black socks. She still has on her matching bra and underwear set, but that does little to calm her nerves.

_Did Jughead..._

“You’re up,” He says, from the chair beside her bed. Except it’s not her bed, not her room, all pastel and pink. She’s in a loft of some sorts, spacious, barely furnished and so utterly Jughead, it’s almost cliché. He’s never been one to have a lot of stuff that wasn’t first edition novels or classic movies. “You were out for almost eighteen hours. How are you feeling, Betts?”

“B-Better,” Betty manages. “Juggie...”

“I didn’t,” Jughead tells her, guessing her thoughts. “I _wouldn’t_ Betty, not without you knowing or being able to give consent... Toni helped.”

Her clothes are dry, folded nearly on the dresser, but she doesn’t reach for them.

“Jug,” she whispers.

“What the hell were you thinking?” He demands, dropping down beside her. “Why were you out there, Betty? In the middle of a fuckin’ storm no less. Don’t you... Do you know what could have happened to you?”

She’s not surprised by his concern. He’s always been guarded with his emotions, but the only exception seemed to be when her safety was in question, like when they were six and a man offered her candy to get her in his van. He’d yanked her back with a surprising amount of force, screaming at her till tears streamed down her cheeks.

She hadn’t been scared of that man, even though she probably should have been. She had been afraid of disappointing Jughead.

“Those guys...”

“Ghoulies,” he divulges, sounding reluctant. “a rival gang that lives on the outskirts of the Southside. You don’t have to worry about them.”

She still knows him.

“Did you do something to them Jug?”

“No,” his lips curve upward into a cruel smile. “at least, not yet.”

_“Jughead-”_

“No one gets to fuck with you Betty,” Jughead hisses. “and the Ghoulies were trying to fuck with you. I might not have been able to protect you then, but I can now and I’m going to.”

She feels something wrapped around her arm, under the sleeve of the flannel.

It’s a leather band with a difficult looking clasp cuffed to her left wrist. Three letters are carved into it. F.P. J.

Forsythe Pendleton Jones III, always known to her as Jughead.

He cradles her face as tears fill her eyes.

“What did she do to you Betts?” He asks, bringing her gaze to his. “Tell me now.”

* * *

“How did you know...”

He chuckles, but it sounds the way it did the day he slipped out of her bedroom the last time.

“Your dad’s in jail,” Jughead replies. “on death row. Who else would be hurting you, baby?”

 _Baby._ He’s never called her that. She loves it.

“Jug...”

“Your face, Betty,”

She’d forgotten about the welt the size of her mother’s palm print against the pale skin of her left cheek.

“You’re thin,” he adds, lips forming a thin line. “you haven’t been eating, have you?”

“Juggie,” Betty whispers, because it’s too much, all of it, and it can’t be real.

 _“Betty,”_ Jughead echoes, catching hold of her hands, prying them open. “don’t do it. Don’t hurt yourself.”

He shouldn’t have known.

But he did. He does. He knows about her darkness.

She cries out, breathes a sigh of relief, because someone can finally see her.

* * *

She’s on his lap. After her breakdown, he’s quick to pull her close, holding her until her breathing evens out and she raises her head from his shoulder.

He opens his mouth to speak, but she cuts him off, pressing her lips to his in a kiss that’s meant to be short and sweet.

It isn’t. It can’t be, not between them.

He groans against her mouth, spinning them so her back hits the mattress, head propped up by a single plush pillow. Hovering his body above hers, Jughead stares at her for a fraction of a second before kissing her again.

Her arms snake around his neck, kisses becoming sloppy. His lips move to her neck, skin bruising beneath them.

It’s Jughead who pulls away.

“We can’t,” he says.

Her lips part, tears of disappointment brimming her eyes.

Jughead sighs, pulling his beanie off, raking a hand through his thick hair. “Fuck.”

Betty scoots away from him.

“We can’t _yet,”_ he corrects, grabbing her ankles, gently bringing her back to his reach. “not when you’re still in so much pain baby.”

“You... you want me, Jug?”

“Fuck Betty,” Jughead laughs, more like himself this time. “I’ve always wanted you.”

* * *

“Things started to get worse after Chic and Polly left,” Betty tells him, once again curled up on his lap.

He nods, silently insisting she continue. It’s the start the story, before everything changed and not for the better. She’s not sure why she started there, perhaps trying to remind herself that she has been happy, even in the home of Alice Cooper.

“My dad...”

“I’m sorry,” he says automatically. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

No one has ever said that to her before, not about her father. The judgment swept in shortly after his arrest and imprisonment. _How could she not have known?_

“I knew your mom would snap,” Jughead admits, his grip on her waist tightening. “I knew you were in danger.”

She stares up at him. How could he have possibly known?

“I went back to get you,”

Her jaw falls.

He didn’t. He couldn’t have.

And yet, she remembers a night so long ago when she was locked away in her bedroom for the night, no lights allowed after she’d gone into the backyard for some fresh air.

She’d heard voices, hushed, arguing back and forth.

Alice had said she was watching a movie when Betty dared to ask her about it.

“Four months ago, maybe,” He sighs. “She said that you were gone, that you up and left town the night your dad was arrested. I shouldn’t have believed her, I’ve always been able to smell a lie a mile away, but...”

“Jug?”

“Part of me wanted to believe that you had run away and never looked back,” Jughead cradles her jaw, sweeping his thumb across her bottom lip to free the skin from the confinements of her top teeth. “Why didn’t you?”

“I...”

Tears spill down her cheeks.

“C’mon Betts,” he coaxes. “you can do it. Tell me the truth. Tell me everything.”

“The night my dad was arrested, I had a breakdown,” Betty whispers. “I hit him Jug, I did it because he was going to kill my mom, but even after he was down, I couldn’t... I couldn’t stop, Juggie, I... I didn’t _want_ to.”

He shushes her, one hand spayed across the top of her head, fingers knotting in her hair, his free arm wrapping around her as he rocks her back and forth.

“I’m... I’m such a screw up Jug, I’m such a fuck up,” she blubbers. “my mom was r-right about m-me... She was right to do what she did...”

“What did she do, Betty?” Jughead demands. “What the fuck did she do to you?”

“She... used what happened with my dad to send me to the Sisters of Quiet Mercy for a few weeks,” Betty avoids his gaze, because she knows that if everything he’s said is true, he’s already on his way to an outburst. “And now...”

“Betty,” he grits out. “no secrets. We’ve never done secrets, you and me, so spit it out.”

“She applied for conservatorship,” she manages. “she’s had custody of me, control over everything, my medical decisions, the money my grandparents left for me, even my college fund.”

It suddenly hits her.

No matter how safe she feels, there in his arms, she isn’t and she never will be. Her mother could send her back to that hell home of a “safe haven” at any moment. It’s a well-used threat that may as well as turn into a promise this time.

“I have to go.”

As gently as she can, she retracts from his embrace.

“What?” He sounds confused, trying to pull her back, but she makes a break for it, grabbing her jeans, sliding into them. “Betty, wait-”

She shakes her head frantically from side to side, throwing off his flannel. She can’t stay here, no matter how badly she wants to.

_“Stop.”_

It’s a command if she’s ever heard one, but unlike the ones her mother gives, she’s actually willing to listen.

She stops.

“Sit down,” Jughead directs, pointing to the bed.

She sits.

“You’re not going anywhere Elizabeth,” He practically growls, stalking towards her. Cradling her face, he brushes his thumb across the welt on her cheek and when she winces, apology briefly flickers across his face.

“Jug,” her fingers wrap around his wrists, holding on tight. “I can’t stay-”

“You can and you will,” Jughead dismisses her with a single wave of his hand, palms dropping from her face. “It’s settled, now why don’t you go back to sleep-”

“Nothing is _settled,_ Forsyth,” Betty snaps, in a tone she hasn’t heard herself use for so long.

Determination. She’s determined to argue with him, even if she wholeheartedly wants to to stay, _she can’t._

He looks at her, amused. “Do you see the bracelet on your wrist?”

She glances at it again. “Of course I do, why am I-”

“You couldn’t figure out the clasp if you tried,” Jughead sneers. “I’m the only one who knows how to take it on and off, which means it’s staying on your wrist for as long as I want it to.”

Betty can already see where he’s going, and not a single part of her wants to disagree.

“Juggie...”

“You’re mine, Elizabeth Victoria Cooper,” Gripping the back of her neck, he pulls her in for a hard kiss. Earth shattering. Passionate. “You belong to me now. You always have and you always will.”

She stares at him, dazed.

Jughead grins darkly, wiggling his eyebrows at her. “Any objections, baby?”

Betty slides her arms around his neck.

“Not a one.”

* * *

She wakes up alone.

Nothing happened other than a few stolen kisses, his fingers stroking her hair, luring her into another dreamless sleep. It’s been almost 24 hours since she was forced to take her medication and for the first time since her father’s arrest, she feels clear headed.

“Yeah,” she hears a familiar voice mutter. “if you can drop it off later today, I’d really appreciate it. Thanks Pen.”

He’s shirtless, sans beanie, wearing only a pair of black sweatpants. Throwing his phone down onto the bedside table, he grins, lazily leaning over her to press a sweet kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“Hey baby,”

She’ll never get tired of hearing that.

“Got a... pal stopping by later,” Jughead announces, pulling a fresh shirt and flannel from his disorganized closet. “You should take a shower, eat something before she gets here.”

She still knows him.

“Jug,”

He sighs. “Penny’s a lawyer, the Serpents keep her on retainer when a lot of what we do is...”

“On the other side of the law?”

“Yeah,” Jughead mumbles, tossing the clothes onto the bed. “Betty, listen...”

She touches his cheek.

“I trust you, Jughead Jones,” she tells him.

Grinning, he grabs her shoulders and presses a smacking kiss to her mouth.

“That’s my girl,”

 _His_ girl. She loves it.

* * *

“She’ll come looking for me,” Betty whispers.

He catches her hand before she can dig her nails in. “I know.”

“She’ll try to take me away from you Juggie,”

It’s her biggest fear now.

Jughead merely smiles at the thought.

“Not if I take you away from her first.”

* * *

Penny Peabody, with her blunt blonde hair and cold blue eyes, won’t stop staring at her.

She took a shower, using all the hot water at Jughead’s insistence. Still dressed in his clothes, his signature _S_ t-shirt nearly a dress on her gaunt frame, long flannel and another pair of thick socks she’d had to unroll, she tries to smile back.

“C’mere Betts,” Jughead waves her over.

When she’s close enough, he catches her around the waist, pulling her down onto his lap. She grabs his shoulders to steady herself, a soft _squawk_ escaping her lips that has both of them smiling genuinely.

Penny clears her throat.

“Sorry,” Jughead chuckles, settling her more comfortably against him, hands lingering on her hips. “Betts, this is Penny Peabody. Penny, this is Elizabeth Cooper.”

Penny’s deep set eyes are razor sharp. “Cooper... Is your father Hal Cooper?”

Betty only nods.

“Hey,” he mutters, before the overwhelming guilt can sweep in. “stop it.”

He wants her to believe that it’s not her fault. She can’t, but she appreciates him just the same.

Guessing her thoughts, Jughead catches her hands again, threading his fingers through her own, holding her steady.

“When’s your birthday?” Penny blurts out.

It feels like a strange question only because of her tone, though she pushes her suspicions away, telling herself that Penny probably needs it for whatever documents she is currently holding.

“December 7th,”

She stares at her for a moment longer.

“Here’s a copy of the paperwork you asked for, Jonesy,” Penny stands up quickly to leave. “I can get you a hearing with a judge by the end of the week.”

He nods. “Thanks Pen... What do I owe you?”

“Nothing.”

Jughead looks surprised. “Penny... that’s not like you. The last time cost me a fucking-”

“I’ll do this one free of charge,” she insists, gathering her belongings. “just... don’t let that bitch get her back, alright?”

“Never,” he agrees, tightening his grip on her hands.

Penny rushes out without so much as a _goodbye,_ the door slamming shut behind her.

“That was...”

“A little weird?” He finishes, huffing. “Yeah, Penny’s a weird girl, but she’s good at her job.”

Betty’s suddenly grateful for his hold on both of her hands. “How good?”

Jughead grins, nuzzling his nose into her freshly washed hair. “She’s never lost a case Betts. A couple more days and Alice fuckin’ Cooper won’t be a problem anymore.”

* * *

She only has a single night of peace cuddled up in bed with Jughead before there’s three sharp taps against the door.

He’s the one to answer, pushed back by a furious Alice Cooper.

“Elizabeth,” Her tone is borderline calm, but Betty knows she could erupt any moment. “We’re leaving.”

She spins on her heel, expecting Betty to follow.

She almost does.

“Betts,”

Jughead may as well be a beautiful safe haven, a gift sent straight from heaven, the exact thing she hadn’t even realized she needed.

He’s claimed her as his, without her even knowing _what_ exactly they are, but she won’t have it any other way, because she trusts him as much as she did the day he pulled her away from the man with the van. She trusts that he will do what is best for her.

He wraps an arm around her, pulling her to his side.

“Thanks for stopping by, Mrs. Cooper,” Jughead sneers, even though Alice has reverted to using her maiden name, Smith, not bestowing the same pleasure on Betty. “but she isn’t going anywhere with you.”

“Oh yes she is,” Alice hisses, reaching for Betty’s wrist.

The abrupt movement forces her sleeve up, revealing both her new piece of jewelry and the bruises dotting the pale skin of her left arm.

“What is that?” Her mother demands. “What the hell is that, Elizabeth?”

Gently, Jughead adjusts her _(his)_ flannel, hiding the marks again.

“Why are you wearing a _Serpent cuff_ , Elizabeth?”

She opens her mouth to respond, but no sound comes out.

“Because,” he sounds happy to answer for her. “she’s mine.”

Alice goes to grab her again. “Like hell she is-”

“Careful, Mrs. Cooper,” Jughead moves to stand in front of her. “I’ve already alerted some friends of mine on the police force, sent them a couple photos of the... work you’ve done on your daughter.”

Her mother’s eyes dart to the welt on Betty’s cheek.

“Betty won’t be going anywhere,” he adds, grasping her hand, squeezing it softly. “especially to a home where she’s both unsafe and being hurt.”

He starts to close the door.

“You almost got away with it, Alice,” Jughead adds, venom in his tone. “you almost had me believing that she moved on. I won’t make that mistake again.”

Betty chokes back a sob as the door is slammed shut in her mother’s face.

* * *

True to her word, Penny gets them a private hearing with a judge in two days times.

Jughead surprises her with a new dress, a dark blue that brings out her eyes, and a little white cardigan that’s almost long enough to hide her healing bruises.

He pleads with her not to wear makeup, telling her that she shouldn’t be ashamed and she finally relents, but she hates knowing that a decision is about to be made just because of the welt on her cheek.

She’s not sure she can ever forgive whoever gave Alice the power over her in the first place.

Alice is there, wearing a professional pants suit. Just barely turning around, she glares daggers at Betty as she hides behind Jughead.

“Easy,” he cautions, squeezing her hand. “this won’t take long baby.”

* * *

And it doesn’t.

Penny _is_ good at her job, great even, speaking sharply, clearly, not allowing Alice to get a word in edge wise. She finds herself almost able to relax as her mother’s character is literally ripped to shreds right in front of her.

That ends the second the judge beckons Jughead forward.

“Betty,” he mutters, gently trying to shake her off.

She clings to his arm.

“Betty,” Jughead says, a little more firmly. “Baby, you have to let me go. I’ll be right back.”

“Forgive my client, Judge Alvarado,” Penny says. “After the... _mistreatment_ she has endured at the hands of her... _mother_ , Alice Smith, Mr. Jones is the only one Elizabeth truly feels comfortable with.”

She can feel eyes burning holes into her as she continues to cling to him.

“Let her step forward as well,” the man decides. “I have questions for both of them.”

Jughead reluctantly drags her forward.

“Mr. Jones,” the Judge’s voice is deep, low, and in a way, it reminds her of FP. She’s not sure how or why. “According to Ms. Smith, you and Elizabeth Cooper have not seen one another since you were children. Is that correct?”

“I lost contact with Betty shortly after my father died, your Honor,” he replies. “I’ve known her since we were four, and I’ve loved her every day since then.”

_Love._

He loves her?

“I’m very sorry for your loss, son,”

Betty’s grip tightens on his arm. She knows how much he hates anyone other than his father calling him _son._

“Thank you, sir,”

“How old were you when he passed on?”

“Sixteen, sir,”

“So young,” He sounds moved. “Ms. Cooper, Elizabeth, what is your relationship to Mr. Jones as of now?”

Alice has always told her that her tendency to speak before she thinks is a disgrace. They haven’t talked labels yet, even with Jughead declaring her as his.

“He’s my boyfriend, your Honor,” she hears herself say.

Alice’s nostrils flare.

“Would you like to return to your mother’s care, Elizabeth?”

 _“No,”_ Betty answers, as strongly as she can. “No, your Honor, I would not.”

“So be it,” the Judge bangs his gavel. “This court finds that Alice Anna Smith will be stripped of her guardianship in regards to Elizabeth Victoria Cooper. In her place, Forsythe Pendleton Jones the third will be granted immediate conservatorship of Elizabeth, including both financial and medical responsibility until Elizabeth is ready to care for herself.”

Alice strews her lawyer’s papers across the table, screaming in frustration.

* * *

She goes to thank Penny, but finds her gone. Long gone.

* * *

“This is _not_ over Elizabeth,” Alice hisses, grabbing her arm.

“Actually _mom,”_ Betty sneers, wrenching free, pushing her away. “it is.”

* * *

“Boyfriend, huh?”

She begins to panic.

“Betty,” Jughead catches her hands, holding onto them firmly. “Fuck. Take a deep breath.”

She obeys immediately.

“We’ll work on it,” He promises, slinging an arm around her. “Baby, of course I’ll be your boyfriend, it’s all I ever wanted to be.”

Betty’s cheeks burn.

“I’m taking you to Pop’s,” Jughead declares, pulling her towards FP’s ancient truck. “and we’re not leaving until you’ve had at least two milkshakes and three plates of fries.”

Her stomach rumbles at the thought.

He laughs, kissing the top of her head.

“I’m gonna take care of you, Betts,”

* * *

She still can’t quite believe that she’s safe, that it’s finally over.

She wakes up that night, belly full, confused to find herself not in her bedroom, always dark because she doesn’t deserve to have light in her own darkness, door locked, Alice her only company with her daily piece of bread and round the clock pills her mother forces her to take.

A single arm wraps around her from behind.

“Sleep,” he instructs softly.

Her eyes lull shut.

She’s here, with Jughead in his bed, not hers, and she’s safe. Alice can’t touch her dreams if she doesn’t let her.

* * *

He doesn’t always coddle her, and she’s grateful.

“Eat,” Jughead demands, glowering at her nearly full plate.

Betty pushes it away. “I did.”

“Not enough,” his tone brokers no room for argument. “now pick up that fork and eat your chicken, Little Bit.”

“Jug, I’m not-”

“Just because that bitch only fed you once a day doesn’t mean I will,” Jughead says, reaching for the book he left on the kitchen counter. “Seriously Betts, eat. We’re not leaving the table until you do.”

* * *

He finally puts on his Serpent jacket.

She’s seen his tattoo too many times, inked across his right arm, proudly wearing a crown that has always somehow seemed to symbolize him, but she’s never seen him in the leather wrapping around his shoulders like a second skin.

“I’ve gotta go out for a little bit,” he tells her, kissing her forehead. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, and my phone is always on. Call me if you need anything, sweetheart.”

Betty nervously splays her hands across her knees, resisting the urge to dig her nails in tight. The fabric of her new jeans is strangely comforting, reminding her of all the clothes he’s bought for her in the last few days. “Where?”

Jughead merely smiles at her question, or perhaps her attempts to refrain from hurting herself.

“It’s just a meeting baby,” he mumbles, stroking her still sore cheek. “nothing you need to worry about. I’ll be back soon.”

“Jug...”

“What, Betts? I really have to-”

“I want to know the Serpents,” Betty says, as bravely as she can.

He snorts.

And walks out.

Her nails dig in the second the door slams shut, locks behind him.

* * *

“Damn it Betty,”

He catches her wrist, pulling her along behind him into the singular bathroom, reaching for the first aid kit on auto pilot. She hisses as he applies an antibiotic to her hands, wrapping them in gauze before she can make her scars worse.

“Did I make you do this?” Jughead demands.

She shakes her head.

It’s not his fault, it’s hers, and maybe her parents, but mostly her. It’s always been hers.

“Liar,” He challenges tiredly. “Don’t ever lie to spare my feelings, baby.”

“Jughead...”

She trails off, noticing the specks of blood around the rims on his knuckles, against his dark t-shirt, even his neck.

“Fuck,” Jughead sighs, raking a hand through his hair, dislodging his beanie in the process. “I need a shower.”

He yanks his shirt over his head.

Her eyes greedily trace the curves of his shoulders, the abs he had but tried to deny in high school.

Suddenly she’s being lifted, spun, set precariously on the counter.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?”

Grinning, her fingers lace together behind his neck, playing with the thick hair at the nape, legs locking around his hips to draw him closer.

“Do I?”

He pins his forehead to hers, a devilish look in his darkened eyes.

“Completely,”

They meet, teeth clanking together, but neither seem to care, too caught up in one another. His mouth moves from her lips to her neck, feathering kisses against her pale skin, certainly leaving marks that she never wants to hide for as long as she lives.

“Fuck Betts...”

She doesn’t let him try and squirm away.

“Betts,” Jughead growls, stumbling back from her embrace. “Baby, we _can’t.”_

He grabs a towel, kisses her healing cheek, and quickly ushers her out of the bathroom.

He’ll always protect her, it seems, even if it’s from himself.

* * *

“I should have stayed,”

She doesn’t look up till he catches her chin with a single finger, bringing her attention back to him. Leaning across the bed, only wearing a pair of black sweatpants, Jughead hovers his body over hers, refusing to be ignored.

“I should have stayed to talk to you,” he drops a kiss to the gauze covering her palm. “I’m sorry Betty, I’m so sorry that I didn’t, I just...”

“You had to go,”

“Well... Yeah.”

“Can we talk now?” She asks, trying and failing not to sound hopeful.

Jughead drops beside her, lifting her onto his lap.

“Hey,” he smooths her tangled hair back. “of course we can, we can talk about anything.”

Betty buries her face into the crook of his neck. “Why don’t you want me around the Serpents?”

“I don’t want you around a lot of people right now,” Jughead confesses, wrapping his arms around her. “The Serpents have nothing to do with it.”

“Then why-”

“Are you sure you can handle hearing this?”

“Jug.”

“Fuck,” he sighs. “I’m sorry Betts, I didn’t mean it like _that_ , it’s just... this shit isn’t always easy to stomach, you know?”

“I can handle it, Jug,” she says, in the bravest voice she can muster.

He kisses the side of her head. “That’s my girl.”

He sighs again.

“I went to take care of something tonight,” Jughead tells her, bringing up his bruised knuckles for both of them to see. “Hence the blood.”

Betty bites her lip. “The... other gang you told me about... The... ghosts?”

He huffs a laugh. “Close baby, the _Ghoulies_ , and yeah, one of their members, Malachai, that’s who you ran into that night.”

She almost doesn’t want to ask.

“What did you... _do_ , Jug?”

“Just gave him a warning,” Jughead promises, running his hand up and down her back. “I’ve been working on a plan of peace with some of the elder members, but Malachai still had to pay.”

“Why?” Betty croaks.

“I told you, Betty,” his hand stills. “no one is allowed to fuck with you. Not anymore.”

His words are a welcome safety net, and she falls into them with open trust, and an open heart.

“I’m sorry baby,” Jughead murmurs, pressing another kiss to her opposite palm, lips scratching against the bandages. “so fucking sorry. I shouldn’t have left without talking to you first.”

“So... I _can_ be around the Serpents?”

“There’s certain things I’m not going to let you anywhere near,” he admits, shifting her off his lap as he lays down, pulling her back on top of him. “you’re the most important person in the world to me Betts and... I can’t lose you, not again. I won’t.”

“Jug...”

“If I tell you to stay away, you steer clear, Elizabeth,” Jughead warns, tone strained. “Promise me, Betts, please.”

“I promise,” she whispers, kissing his cheek.

He turns to face her, shifting both of them to their sides.

“Good girl,”

Her cheeks burn at the compliment.

Perfection was something Alice always expected, for Betty and her other two children, for Betty to be the “nice girl”, the “good girl” and she always hated it, but with Jughead, it was an entirely different story, and she can only hope that she lives up to his expectations.

“What can I do?” He asks suddenly. “What can I do to make you feel better, baby?”

She already feels better, but he’s so undeniably sweet and caring, she doesn’t know what she has done in her eighteen years to deserve someone like him.

“Will you tell me more,” Betty says. “about when you said you came back to get me? Were you really going to get me out of there, Juggie?”

“Of course I was,” Jughead replies easily. “This is gonna sound really selfish but... that day I kissed you, for the first time, I mean, I kind of... decided you were mine?”

“What a coincidence,” she teases, her laughter filling the room. “I decided that I was yours that day too.”

* * *

“Jug, what are you doing?”

“You don’t happen to know your Social Security number off the top of your head, do ya Betts?” He doesn’t look up from his laptop. “I don’t remember where I put all the paperwork Penny gave me.”

“475-74-0739,” Betty answers, because she will never keep anything from him. “You need a better filing system.”

Jughead leans back just enough for her to straddle his thigh, arm locking around her in an almost possessive hold.

“Good thing my girlfriend is the Queen of Organization, huh?”

 _Girlfriend._ It’s the first time she’s ever heard him say it.

Her eyes scan the page he’s on. _Greendale Community College_ , it reads. It’s enrollment forms, for one Elizabeth Victoria Cooper.

Tears burn her eyes.

“Juggie...”

“It’s not NYU like you always dreamed,” he sounds apologetic. “but it’s the best we’ve got for right now.”

* * *

She chooses journalism for a major, and makes plans to try out for the on campus paper.

He buys her a new backpack, pens, notebooks and highlighter, makes her pose at the front door for a cliché “first day of school” photo and sets it as his lock screen.

The drive to Greendale is filled with awkward silence.

“Call me,” Jughead instructs, uncurling her fisted hand before she can do it again. “If you need anything, promise me you’ll call Betts. Please.”

“I promise,” she agrees, accepting a final kiss.

“Have a good day baby,” he calls after her. “you’ll do great. Oh, and Betts?”

Betty glances over her shoulder at him.

“I believe in you,”

He drives away and she attends her first class with the biggest smile on her face. _He believes in her._

* * *

“Hey Blondie, mind if I join you?”

She stares up at Toni in surprise. “Uh... of course, but what are you-”

Toni slides into the seat across from her, dropping her bag down at her feet. “You’re not the only one who’s trying to get an education, Betty.”

She looks different than she did the night she and the other Serpents abducted her from the depths of Sweet Water River, a decision she knows she should thank the pink haired girl for, hair falling around her shoulders in curls, wearing a black tank top, skirt and fishnets tucked into her combat boots, sans leather jacket.

“Did Jughead ask you to keep an eye on me?” Betty demands instead.

She shrugs, pulling out a container of sushi rolls. “It helps that we have classes on the same day. I’m here if you need me, okay? No matter what Jughead may or may not have asked me to do.”

She rolls her eyes, question answered, but she isn’t upset.

“Toni?”

“Hmm?”

“T...Thank you,” Betty whispers, avoiding her gaze. “For that night, I mean. You... you saved me.”

A gentle hand lands atop of hers.

“You’re welcome,” Toni replies. “but if anyone _saved_ you, Betty, it was Jughead, although he probably wants to think that you’ve saving yourself, and maybe you are. To be completely honest, I wouldn’t have recognized you if it hadn’t been for that picture he keeps of you in his nightstand.”

Her heart leaps out of her chest.

“P-Picture?”

She nods. “I found it one day about a year ago, doesn’t look like it was taken _that_ long before he joined the Serpents. I was looking for a pen, stumbled across that picture instead. You were standing with Jughead and some red headed dude...”

“Archie,”

 _Archie._ God how she misses him, Kevin and Veronica.

“Archie, right. Jughead was so upset when I found it, I had to bug him about it for hours: _who’s the pretty blonde girl? Who is she, huh? Huh?_ And he finally snapped and said: _that’s Betty._ When I asked him who you were...”

She trails off.

“He’d kill me if he knew I was telling you this.”

“Our secret,” she promises, silently begging her to continue.

“When I asked him who you were, he said, and I quote: _she’s the one that got away, but that’s okay, because someday, I’m going to get her back.”_

She likes Toni, thinks they could be great friends. They spend the rest of their lunch hour in comfortable silence, smiling at one another every so often.

* * *

“What are you thinkin’ about so hard over there, Lisbeth?”

She smiles vaguely at the _Girl With the Dragon Tattoo_ reference, he used to tell her that was her alter ego in high school, but doesn’t respond.

“Betty,” suddenly he’s in front of her. “seriously, what are you thinking about? You’re starting to scare me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry Jug,” Betty says. “I was just thinking about how much I love you.”

 _Whoops._ She’s just said that out loud, and there’s no taking it back.

A broad grin spreads across his face.

“I love you too, angel,”

Her heart leaps out of her chest.

 _This is real,_ she thinks. _This is real, and for once in my life, it’s completely mine._

* * *

Nightmares still come, and with them, stories she never thought she would have to tell Jughead.

“Sometimes I'd scream,” She admits, as they lay curled up on his leather sectional, an old movie playing in the background. “I’d scream so loud, I _hoped_ it would alert the neighbors, Mr. Andrews, _someone_ , and she’d lock me in the basement.”

Jughead's hand, tracing lazy patterns across her back, stills. “Your basement was always creepy as fuck.”

“Right?”

He sighs. “I’m so sorry Betty. They should have heard you.”

Betty shakes her head. “My mom always got to me before they could.”

“Well yeah, but... fuck, I don’t know,” he sighs again. “someone still should have noticed that you were gone... _I_ should have noticed. I’ll never forgive myself for not coming to get you sooner.”

She quickly rolls to her side, eager to face him.

“Jug,” disapproval drips from her tone. “you couldn’t have known. You had no _way_ of knowing what was going to happen.”

His jaw tightens. “I knew.”

“Jughead-”

“Damn it Betty,” Jughead sits up. “anyone with even a _lick_ of common sense could see that your mom was just a ticking time bomb, and of course she was going to take it out on you! You were the only one _left_ after she drove Chic and Polly away.”

“Jug...”

“I failed you, Betty,” he insists. “so did Kevin, Archie, Veronica, Chic, Polly, your parents, the judicial system... Everyone that’s supposed to care about you let you down in one way or another, and it _fucking sucks.”_

“It does,” Betty agrees. “It sucks, and it shouldn’t have happened, any of it, but one good thing did come out of this, Jughead. Do you have any idea what that could be?”

Jughead rolls his eyes, pulling her down on top of him. “No baby, what?”

“You came back,” she whispers, and kisses him senseless.

* * *

“Do you wanna go to the Wyrm with me?”

Meeting his gaze through the bathroom mirror, she finds him to be serious.

“Really?”

He shrugs, trying to play it off like it’s no big deal. “Well, yeah, I mean... I think it’s time, don’t you?”

Her lips tip upwards into a small smile.

“You don’t have to,” Backtracking is a habit he’s never been able to break. “But I'd love it if you did... I want you to meet my friends, and for my friends to meet my...”

“Girlfriend?” Betty teases with a laugh.

Grinning, his hands settle on her hips, pulling her back into him.

“My entire fucking world,” Jughead mutters, turning her face to steal her mouth in a lingering kiss.

* * *

“How long have you had a motorcycle?”

Jughead merely grins at her, already straddling the bike, spare helmet in hand.

“Do you trust me?”

“You’re the only one I trust anymore,” Betty replies, taking the helmet, accepting his hand when it shoots out to steady her.

His lips form a thin line.

“We’ll work on that, Betts.”

* * *

He goes fast, just to make her laugh and hold onto him a little tighter.

* * *

Toni is the first person she sees, and the two exchange bright smiles, but she ultimately sticks to Jughead’s side, nearly cowering behind him.

Sighing, he takes her by the hand before she can even think of using her favorite coping mechanism.

“Relax,” he mutters, pulling her forward. “I’ve got you baby, I've always got you.”

_Always._

Somehow, she knows it’s a promise he intends to keep.

* * *

Sweet Pea apologizes for their first encounter in the woods. She thanks him with a hug that he seems reluctant to return, but does just the same. The other boys with him that night were Fangs and Joaquin, who just so happens to be the on-again-off-again boyfriend of Kevin Keller.

He promises to put them back in touch. Betty takes Kevin’s number with a smile, though doesn’t plan to call any time soon.

She knows she still needs time.

* * *

Jughead leaves her at the bar with a kiss to her hair, mumbling something about having to deal with some _business._

Feeling overwhelmed by the intimidating, though mostly welcoming biker gang, Betty goes outside for some fresh air.

She runs straight into Penny.

“Fuckin’ watch where you’re...” Her deep set eyes widen. “Betty.”

“Hi Penny,” she replies, just as awkwardly.

“What are you doing out here?” Penny demands, almost sounding accusatory. “You shouldn’t go anywhere in Southside alone.”

Betty has a feeling Jughead would readily agree, and the thought makes her want to roll her eyes and smile like a silly school girl in love with her first, and hopefully _only_ boyfriend all at once.

“Does Jonesy know you’re out here?”

She shakes her head.

“He’s going to come looking for you,” Penny adds, like it’s a warning.

“I’ll only be a minute,” Betty tells her, still unsure of how, exactly, to react to the woman in front of her. “Um... Penny?”

She glances at her through thick lashes, throwing the remnants of her cigarette to the ground. “Hmm?”

“I just wanted to... thank you, for everything you did that day... For getting me away from my mother, and letting me stay with Jughead.”

The conversation is strained, awkward and there’s a part of her that wishes Jughead would rush to her rescue yet again.

Penny seems to appreciate her words just the same.

“You’re welcome,” She says softly.

She reaches out, slowly, hesitantly touching a lock of hair curling around her shoulders. It’s a strange, but not unwelcome moment.

Jughead choses that moment to reappear.

“Hey Pen,” He greets casually, hooking his arm around Betty’s neck. “Elizabeth Cooper, tell me before you leave the bar next time, or so help me...”

It’s not a threat, it’s a promise of what’s to come, when he feels that she can handle it, and she’s anxiously counting down the minutes.

“Catch ya on the flip side, Jonesy,” Penny offers him a mocking two fingered salute before disappearing into the dark of night.

“That was weird,” Jughead mutters, drawing her closer.

“So weird,” Betty agrees. “Jug, why does it feel like she doesn’t like me?”

“Actually Betts,” his lips are close to her ear. “you seem to be one of the only people in this world she _does_ like.”

* * *

 _“You didn’t really think you’d seen the last of me, did you, Elizabeth?”_ Her mother sneers, giving her a final shove towards their deep, dark basement. _“You’ll never see that **Serpent** again.”_

* * *

She screams.

“Jesus Christ baby,” Jughead forces her into his arms despite her desperate attempts to wrestle away from him. “Betty, baby, _Betts._ Fuckin’ _stop_. It’s not real, you’re right here, you’re not with your mom, you’re with _me. Jughead.”_

Her eyes fly open.

They’re not alone. He’s invited Sweet Pea, Fangs and Joaquin over to play video games in a rare moment of peace. In the month and a half she’s been living with Jughead, he’s been called away more times in the night than she can count, to deal with _“business”_ ventures that he never cares to share with her.

She doesn’t remember falling asleep in the old la-z-boy that belonged to his father.

Everyone is staring at her.

“We can go,” Sweet Pea offers awkwardly, starting to set his controller down as her nails inch themselves towards her palms.

“Stop,” Jughead warns, grabbing her wrists, pinning them down with a single hand. “and no, you don’t have to go anywhere guys, she’s fine. Betty is _fine.”_

But she’s not, and they all know it.

“She’s having a... _moment,_ Jug,” Joaquin’s tone is gentle. “Maybe we should call it a day.”

“I’m sorry,” Betty whispers, scrambling to her feet. She steps out of his reach. “I’m so sorry.”

And she runs, runs to escape it all, because tonight, just like every other night, is **_her fault._**

* * *

Jughead barges into the bedroom after her, not giving her time to slam the door in his face.

“Come here,” he demands.

Betty crosses her arms. “No,”

His eyebrows shoot up in disbelief. “Excuse me?”

“I said,” she tries to remain defiant, even though the only thing she wants to do is run into his always open arms. “no. Leave me alone, Jughead.”

“No.”

_“Excuse me?”_

“I said,” he mimics. “no. If you really think that what you need is to be alone right now Betts... you’re more lost than I thought.”

Of course she’s lost, she’s been lost since the day he left and she doesn’t quite know how to find herself again.

“We’re gonna take it one day at a time baby,” Jughead says, guessing her thoughts in the way that only he seems to be able to do.

She doesn’t stop him when he pulls her close, whispering words of encouragement in her ear, nor does she protest to the slight sting against her ass when he playfully spanks her.

* * *

He shows her some tough love sometimes.

She’s been conditioned to only eat once a day. She’s not hungry, though she knows she should eat more. Jughead pushes her to eat. It’s a daily argument.

He refuses to let her leave the table until she complies. It’s ridiculous and overprotective and makes her feel like a child, but little by little, it starts to work.

She gains three pounds in three weeks, and she’s never been happier to stand on a scale.

* * *

“I think we’re the only couple we know that isn’t having sex,”

Standing at the kitchen sink, washing dishes from their dinner, he snorts.

“We don’t know any other couples,” he says.

“Kevin and Joaquin,” Betty banters.

“You haven’t seen Kev in like a year,” Jughead points out, not to be mean. “and anyway, he and ‘Quin are off again... I think. Fuck, I don’t know how to keep track of that shit.”

“Uh... Archie and Veronica?”

“Haven’t seen them in forever,” there’s a change to his tone. “I’m willing to bet that you haven’t either.”

He’s right, she hasn’t. Her father’s arrest occurred at the end of her senior year, in which Alice arranged for her to finish her finals at the Sisters of Quiet Mercy. She didn’t even walk at graduation, give the valedictorian speech she’s always dreamed of giving. She’s not sure what happened to her old friends, but as far as she knows, none of them have tried to find her in the year since she’s seen them last.

“Wouldn’t matter if I had anyway,” Jughead grumbles.

A plate breaks.

She cringes at the sound.

“Fuck,” he sighs, wet hands curling around her arms. “I’m sorry Betty, I shouldn’t have done that. I know it’s a trigger for you.”

“You’re mad,” Betty whispers.

Jughead kisses her neck. “Not at you.”

“At Archie,”

“Yep,”

“Why?”

“Same reason I’m mad at Kevin and Veronica,” he answers begrudgingly. “because he was your friend, your best friend, and he didn’t do a damn thing to save you. None of them did.”

“They couldn’t have known,” She argues. Part of what he’s saying is true, but she knows him well enough to sense a deeper meaning behind his words. “Jug-”

Jughead pulls away from her. “Never mind baby.”

“Jughead,”

“Betty, I said drop it.”

“He left you too,” Betty realizes. “We both... We all did.”

“You didn’t.”

“Jug-”

“You didn’t _leave_ me, Betty,” Jughead throws his beanie across the room, raking a hand through his hair. “I left you, all of you.”

“But we should have tried harder-”

“Do you remember that day in your bedroom, Betty?” He demands, and she nods. “I told you to let it go. I didn’t _want_ you to stay with me, any of you.”

Her lip trembles before she can stop it. “You didn’t-”

“Don’t,” Jughead warns, grabbing her by the shoulders. “Don’t go into that dark place Betts, that’s not what I meant. Of course I wanted you, I’ve _always_ wanted you, I _love_ you, but I didn’t want you jumping down the rabbit hole with me, and I know you would have.”

He’s right again. Even at sixteen, she would have followed him anywhere.

“I knew what I was getting into when I left to join the Serpents,” he confesses. “and I don’t regret it, let me make that clear, but I wasn’t going to drag the rest of you down with me... Until now.”

It’s her turn to comfort him.

She cradles his face just like he so often does to her.

“You saved me, Juggie,” Betty whispers.

“Not as soon as I should have,”

He starts to pull away.

“Forsyth,” she snaps, because she knows his real name will immediately catch his attention. “you saved me.”

She kisses him then, not giving him the chance to argue.

* * *

“Back to my original point,” Betty says, when he finally pulls away for air.

“Betts,” Jughead grabs her hands, squeezes them tight. “I’m just not ready... okay?”

“Okay,” she agrees, and tries not to feel _too_ disappointed. “Um Jug, can I... ask you something?”

“Anything baby, always,”

“Are you...”

He snorts. “What, you didn’t think I’d wait for you, Betty?”

His arms wrap around her waist, lips close to her ear.

“I don’t _want_ anyone else.”

* * *

She gets an _A_ on her first major paper of the semester. Jughead hangs it up on the fridge and while Betty mocks him for it along with his other inner circle Serpents, she’s secretly thrilled, because for the first time in her life, someone actually believes in her.

The campus paper loves her work, but has no open seats available. Jughead apologizes for her disappointment, though admits that he thinks it’s _too much_ for her right now, and she can’t decide if she agrees with him or not.

* * *

The nightmares are starting to get worse. So are her triggers.

Sweet Pea gets into a drunken bar fight over someone making a pass at Toni and smashes a beer bottle over the man’s head. When he goes to hit him again, she’s transported back to the night she hit her father repeatedly over the head with an instrument from the fire place.

His face was barely recognizable.

She grips the pool stick with both hands so tightly, her knuckles turn white.

She swings again.

Toni gasps.

* * *

“You’re sure you don’t know who hit you?” The cop demands.

He eyes Betty warily.

Her nails dig further into her palms, drawing blood.

She deserves his scrutiny, deserves to go to jail, but she won’t, because Jughead won’t let her.

“No,” he grits out. “how many times are you going to fucking ask me that?”

He’s holding a steak from the freezer to his eye, and there’s a butterfly bandage taped to his forehead. She can still see exactly where she got him, a bubble of blood forming over the cut.

He darted in front of her when he saw her ready to strike.

He got hurt, and she’ll never forgive herself for that.

“I’m just trying to help, Mr. Jones,” the officer snarks back, flipping his little notepad closed.

 _You can help_ , a small voice within her, one that sounds suspiciously like Alice Cooper, insists. _Tell the truth, get what you deserve._

Betty takes a step forward. “Sir-”

Jughead, even from across the room, is acutely aware of everything she does, and with a nod so subtle, she barely sees it, she’s being whisked from the bar, down the stairs into the basement by Fangs and Joaquin.

“Did you hear something?”

“No,” her boyfriend replies. “not a thing.”

* * *

She’s cowering in a corner when he finally comes down.

“Why did you bring her here?” He demands, sounding irritated, concerned and exhausted all at once. “And where the fuck is she?”

Joaquin points wordlessly.

“Betty,” Jughead calls, calmer now. “Come out.”

Betty shakes her head frantically, unsure if he can see her in the near pitch blackness of the White Wyrm’s basement.

He stalks forward until he’s right in front of her, crouching down to her height.

“I said,” Jughead sighs. “come out baby, let’s go home. You’re exhausted, you need sleep.”

For once he’s wrong. She’s not tired, she’s wide awake, caught in a very real nightmare.

She _hurt_ him. She hurt Jughead.

With another sigh, he pulls her from her hiding spot with ease, hoisting her over his shoulder as he carries her back up the stairs, out the door.

He doesn’t let her down until they reach the safety of his bedroom, five minutes away, up two more flights of stairs.

Betty darts away from him.

“Your hands,” he sighs again, reaching for her. “I’ll clean you up. C’mere, Little Bit.”

She shakes her head.

“Betty,”

“S-Stay away from me, Jug,” she whispers, falling to her knees, finding the nearest corner to cower in.

“Betty,” Jughead repeats, confused. “Baby-”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Betty whimpers.

“Hurt me?” He demands, starting towards her. “Betty-”

“Stay back!” She snaps. “Stay away from me, Jughead, don’t touch me, don’t come near me!”

Much to her surprise, he stops dead in his tracks, the hurt clear in his eyes.

She squeezes her own shut, not wanting to see anymore, because she can’t bear knowing that she hurt him any further.

Part of her still wishes that he wouldn’t listen and embrace her instead.

* * *

She knows what she has to do, to keep him and everyone else she cares about safe, from her and the storm silently brewing inside of her.

* * *

Jughead falls asleep close to three AM.

She finally stands, kisses his forehead, leaves a hastily written note on the dresser as she creeps down the stairs and out the door.

_I’m so sorry. I love you. I’ll always love you._

* * *

She knocks three times.

“Elizabeth,” Alice doesn’t even sound surprised. “what can I do for you?”

Betty’s hands bleed a little more.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone else,” she whispers.

Her mother brightens, opens the door a little wider, inviting her inside.

“Oh Elizabeth,” Alice claps her own hands together. “There’s a good girl. Come with me, darling, and we’ll get you the help you so desperately need. Come, come, no time to waste.”

 _Good girl._ It’s nothing like the way Jughead says it. Condescending bitch.

* * *

The intake process is just as grueling as she remembers.

Alice happily chitchats with the nun behind the desk as she fills out the necessary paperwork.

Betty sits beside her, blankly staring ahead.

It’s the last place she wants to be, but this is what she deserves. The world... No, Jughead, _her world_ , deserves to be safe. From her.

Sister Woodhouse, god how she hates that woman, instructs her to take off her “bracelet.”

She’s forgotten about the cuff on her wrist.

She’s so used to wearing it now, she almost never feels it anymore. She doesn’t know how to take it off and she doesn’t want to know how.

“Elizabeth,” the nun sneers. “always so defiant. Don’t worry dear, we’ll soon fix that.”

“The hell you will,” a familiar voice growls.

Jughead bursts into the room, flanked by Toni and Sweet Pea.

“Betty,” he hisses, eyes darting to the empty spot at his side. The spot she should be standing in.

Betty takes a single step towards him.

Sister Woodhouse yanks her back.

“You need to leave,” she spits. “this patient-”

“Can’t be admitted without my permission,” Jughead finishes, thrusting a single paper her way. “I’m her caregiver, and what I say goes. She’s not fuckin’ staying here, she’s coming home with me.”

He holds out a hand for her.

“Come on, baby.”

She shakes her head. “No.”

“I’m sorry,” Sister Woodhouse says, to Alice, not Betty. “but we won’t be able to take her today.”

“Damn fucking right,” her boyfriend growls, waving his hand impatiently. “Betty, c’mon.”

“No,” she says again, more timidly this time.

“She wants to stay,” Alice snaps. “so let her stay. She needs to be here, it’s the only place she’ll be _safe_.”

“She’ll be _safe_ with me,” Jughead snatches the paper back. “in my home, in my bed, _Mrs. Cooper.”_

“I’m sorry Ms. Smith,” the nun repeats. “but this young man _is_ Elizabeth’s primary caregiver, and if he refuses to admit her...”

 _“Betty,”_ His gaze is still fixated on her. “Come. Here. Now.”

“Jug,” Toni nudges her with his elbow. “let’s just go.”

“Yeah man,” Sweet Pea mutters, glancing around. “This place is... fucked up.”

“And we’re not staying a fucking second longer,” Jughead agrees.

Before she can protest, he has her around the waist, over his shoulder as he starts towards the door again.

“You’ll get what’s coming to you,” he announces, to no one in particular, or perhaps he’s speaking to everyone that has wronged her.

She hopes he is.

* * *

Jughead carries her to the truck kicking and screaming.

“Forsyth!” Betty screeched. “Put me _down!”_

He does, gently pushing her against the driver’s side door, caging his arms on either side of her to prevent an escape.

“What the hell were you thinking?” He yells.

“I...”

“Damn it Betty,” Jughead pulls away, and without warning, bangs his fist into the side of his truck.

She shrinks back in fear.

“The _only_ thing I have ever wanted to do was protect you!” He snaps. “To keep you safe, and happy, to make you feel _loved_ because I knew you never fucking got that from either of your parents, but you still _left_ me, you _walked away_ , right back into the fuckin’ lion’s den! Why would you do that, huh? _Why?”_

“Jug,” Toni says.

“Leave,” he commands, and Sweet Pea and Toni reluctantly walk towards their bikes.

Her nails dig further into the palms of her hands.

“Fucking stop it!” Jughead cries, grabbing her wrists, pinning them above her head. “Don’t hurt yourself Betty, just talk to me.”

She shakes her head. “I can’t.”

“Betty-”

“Juggie, I _can’t,”_ Betty whispers. “Please, just send me back there.”

His eyes snap to hers.

“No,” he hisses. “never.”

“You have to.”

“No I fucking don’t.”

“I’ll go back to court,” she threatens, because she’s desperate, so desperate to protect him the way he’s been protecting her. “I’ll tell the judge that I want to live with my mother.”

“You won’t,” Jughead challenges, tone dead. “I won’t give you the chance to.”

“What are you gonna do,” Betty sneers. “lock me in your bedroom?”

There’s a small pause.

“No,” he says, and drops his arms. “never.”

A sob escapes the back of her throat.

Her arms lock around his neck before he even as a chance to react.

“Baby,” Jughead pushes her back, cradling her face. “What the hell happened back there?”

“I’m sorry Juggie,” she croaks. “I’m so sorry.”

“Baby...”

“Let me go,” Betty pleads. “I don’t want to hurt you again. Please, just let me go.”

He pulls her close again, fingers threading through her hair at the base of her neck.

“No,” Jughead declares. “Never, Elizabeth, I am never letting you go.”

“Juggie...”

“I told you Betts, you’re mine.”

She rests her head against his chest, listening to the sound of his heart beat, the same melody that lulls her to sleep every single night.

“I’m so fucked up, Jug,” Betty whimpers.

He shakes his head. “No baby, you’re not.”

“I... I need help.”

He unlocks the truck, picks her up, settles her into the cab, buckling her seat belt for her.

“Then I’ll help you,” Jughead murmurs, reaching for her hand.

* * *

He takes her to three different therapists.

The first is too condescending, the second likes to name drop, but the third is just right, easy to talk to, understanding without being overbearing.

She starts going four times a week.

* * *

He tries not to be gone at night, because that’s when the nightmares get worse, but he’s the leader of the Serpents and sometimes, it can’t be helped.

She wakes up screaming, finds the bed empty instead of a single, muscular arm wrapping around her waist.

Betty grips the sheets with both hands, resisting the urge to _cope_ with every ounce of strength she has left.

* * *

He walks in nearly two hours later, shrugging out of his jacket, tossing it onto a nearby chair.

He looks startled to find her eyes wide open, frantic, but almost smiles at the realization. Dropping down onto the bed, he gently frees her hands, flips them over to check her palms, just in case, drops a kiss to the unblemished bandages.

“That’s my girl,” Jughead mumbles proudly. “I'm so fucking proud of you, baby.”

He kicks off his shoes, wraps his arms around her and draws the covers around them both.

She has no problems falling back asleep.

* * *

She sees him by accident.

Jughead’s been reluctant to bring her back to the Wyrm since the night she hit him with a pool stick, not because he’s ashamed, he assures her repeatedly, but because he doesn’t want to trigger her further and unravel every shred of progress they’ve made.

He doesn’t like leaving her alone in the apartment for too long either.

It’s a Serpent meeting, so he brings her along, instructing her to go straight up to his office to do her homework. She happily agrees, tucking the laptop he bought her securely under her arm.

They walk in hand in hand.

A gasp escapes her lip.

She waits for her computer to hit the ground, shattering the screen on impact, but the sound never comes.

Jughead catches it for her, laying a heavy hand on her shoulder.

Standing there, under Joaquin’s leather clad arm, is Kevin Keller.

“Betty,” he rasps, and starts towards her.

She turns away from him.

One arm wraps around her, the other raising to halt Kevin in his tracks.

“Don’t,” she hears Jughead command. “just give her a second Kev.”

He pulls her away from the prying eyes of the rest of the bar, cradling her face.

“What do you need?” He asks softly.

Tears brim her eyes at the sight of her absolutely perfect boyfriend.

“It’s not his fault,” Betty whispers, pleading. “I’m just not ready.”

Jughead cups her cheek, brushing a tear away with the calloused pad of his thumb.

“You don’t have to be, baby,” He says, nodding towards a door. “Go upstairs, do your homework and don’t worry about anything else. I’ll take care of it.”

Standing on her tiptoes, she presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I love you.”

“I love you too Little Bit,” Jughead replies, turning to stand in front of her. “Now go, I’ll come get you when we’re done and we can go to Pop’s to get some takeout for dinner.”

Almost smiling, Betty takes the steps two at a time. Even through the closed door, she can still hear bits and pieces of the ensuing argument.

“...I was her best friend! Why doesn’t she want to see me?”

Her heart breaks a little at his words.

“Kev, she’s hurt,” Jughead replies. “she’s hurt, and she’s confused, and she’s kinda been through a fucking lot, so you need to give her some time.”

“But if you would just let me talk to her...”

“No,”

There’s a protectiveness to his tone that sends a chill down her spine. She loves this side of him, loves that he abides by her wishes instead of trying to force his own opinion on her, unlike her mother.

“But Jug-”

“I said _no,”_ now he sounds final, determined. “she needs time Kevin, just give her time.”

* * *

She doesn’t reach out to him yet, and both her therapist and Jughead repeatedly promise her that it’s fine.

* * *

Kevin gets impatient and calls Archie and Veronica.

* * *

She’s at the bar with Jughead and the rest of the Serpents, wearing his jacket for the first time because she’s cold, and wants the constant reminder that she is his, sipping a glass of water given to her by Toni when the three of them walk in.

“Fuckin’ Northsiders,” Sweet Pea grumbles from beside her.

Archie’s eyes zero in on her.

“Betty,” he hisses, starting towards her.

Jughead moves instinctively to shield her from view. “Arch,”

“Jug,” Archie replies, nonchalantly. “Move. I wanna talk to Betty.”

Her boyfriend crosses his arms. “No?”

 _“No?”_ He snorts. “Who’s gonna stop me, Jug? _You?”_

“B,” Veronica whispers, arms opening for a hug.

Betty stays halfway hidden behind Jughead.

He shrugs. “If I have to,”

Archie starts towards her again only to be shoved back a step.

“Leave her the fuck alone Archie,” Jughead warns. “She’s not ready.”

“Not ready for _what?”_ Archie demands. “To see me? _Us?_ We’re her best friends Jug, of course she wants to... Why wouldn’t she?”

“Because,” he replies simply. “part of her feels like you abandoned her, all of you.”

“Betty...” Veronica’s lip quivers. “We didn’t... We would never-”

“Don’t,” the red headed boy hisses, pushing Jughead back, knocking him into her. “don’t you dare put words in her mouth Jughead. We never abandoned her... If anyone abandoned her, it was _you_ when you ran off to join the Serpents. Where were you when her father got arrested, huh? Where the hell were you for her then?”

It’s the wrong thing to say.

Jughead throws his arm back without a thought, launching himself at Archie with a fierce determination.

They land on the floor.

Jughead’s stronger than he was in high school, but so is Archie, and it doesn’t take long for him to get the upper hand.

Betty’s world goes dark.

No one, not even Archie, is allowed to hurt Jughead.

She grabs Sweet Pea’s beer bottle in a blind panic, breaking it against the bar top, sticky liquid flying everywhere.

Everyone speaks at once.

“Betty!” Kevin cries.

Veronica takes a step towards her. “B...”

“Betty,” Archie rasps, shoulders hunching together.

He’s scared. Of her. And he should be.

Jughead scrambles to his feet, holding his hands out to stop her. “Baby, don’t,”

His voice is the only one she can hear.

A strangled sob escapes her throat as Sweet Pea pries the broken beer bottle from her grasp. Jughead pulls her close, hiding her from view.

“I’m sorry,” Betty rambles, fat tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’m sorry Juggie, I’m so, so, so sorry!”

“Shh,” he smooths her hair back. “it’s okay baby, none of this is your fault.”

How can he still say that?

Betty pushes him away, holding her arms up to stop him when he immediately starts after her.

“Damn it Betty,” Jughead growls, grabbing her by the wrist. “We’re not back to this, we’re _not.”_

“I could have _killed_ Archie just now!” She snaps. “How can you stand there and tell me that it’s not my fault?”

“Because it’s _not,”_ he insists, tugging her towards him. “you were triggered, just like the night you got me with the pool stick, and after everything you went through-”

“Don’t,” Betty whispers, trying and failing to break free from the safety of his grasp. “Don’t blame what happened to me for the way I am now.”

“But it is to blame,” Jughead grips both her arms. “Betty, I know what you’re thinking and it’s not true. It’s _not.”_

Is he right, or is she actually crazy.

“Betty...” Archie mutters.

She glances at him, briefly, and turns back to Jughead, hiding her face into his shoulder as his arms wrap around her again.

“Just go,” Betty manages. “Please Arch.”

He grabs Kevin and Veronica, and without another word, leaves through the front door.

* * *

“You aren’t crazy Betty,”

She shakes her head, perched on top of his desk. “I want to believe that, to believe _you_ , but Jug...”

“I know you, Betty,” Jughead tells her, pushing a lock of hair behind her ears. “I know you better than anyone. You’re a good person Betts, the best one I know. You are not crazy.”

“Then why do I do...” She thrusts her hands out for his to see the fresh marks. “This?”

He’s silent for a moment.

“Maybe you have a little... _darkness,”_ Jughead offers. “just like me.”

Betty stares up at him, silently processing his words.

Jughead? _Darkness?_ It doesn’t seem possible.

But then she thinks about the Serpents, how her boyfriend is their leader, the King, and all the things he keeps her from, afraid to scare her. She knows he carries a gun when he leaves the apartment, knows that he often returns home in the middle of the night covered in blood.

She isn’t stupid, isn’t as naïve as maybe she once was, and though the knowledge that Jughead is potentially involved in illegal activities on a daily basis, bloodshed, lives lost, should make her run in the other direction, she is determined to remain at his side with her feet firmly planted.

“You’re a good person,” he repeats. “and I love you, more than I have ever loved anyone on this planet.”

* * *

She’s not _too_ surprised to find Archie, Kevin and Veronica waiting for them when they leave, but she still hides behind Jughead, arms wrapping around his torso.

“She told you to leave, Arch,” Jughead grits out, covering her hands with his.

Archie throws his arms up in surrender. “I just wanted to say... I’m sorry, Juggie, I didn’t mean that... any of it.”

Her boyfriend sighs.

Then, after a moment’s hesitation, the two shake hands.

Timidly, she peeks out at her three friends from over Jughead’s shoulder.

“Are you okay B?” Veronica asks gently, making no moves to approach her.

Betty nods slowly. “I will be.”

“What happened to you?” Kevin blurts out, and all eyes narrow at his tendency to be not so subtle. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry guys, but... I’m dying to know, Betty... I’ve been worried sick about you.”

“So worried that you never _once_ tried to find out where I was?” She demands, and then immediately regrets it, sinking further into Jughead’s embrace. “I’m sorry... I shouldn’t have said that.”

Archie shakes his head. “It’s not like we don’t deserve it, Betty, and you’re absolutely right, we should have tried harder.”

“You disappeared right after your dad’s arrest,” Veronica cringes at the memory. “What happened to you, B?”

Her nails inch towards her palms, and then move away again. She can do this.

“My mother sent me to the Sisters of Quiet Mercy,” Betty confesses, avoiding their gazes. “and then, she convinced the courts that I was crazy.”

Jughead squeezes her hand. “She managed to escape Alice Cooper’s fuckin’ house of horrors. Some of my Serpents found her at Sweet Water River and brought her to me. I’ve been taking care of her for the last couple of months.”

“Wait,” Kevin’s eyes light up. “are you two together?”

His lips brush across her knuckles. “Very much so.”

“Is Jughead like, your guardian or something?” Archie questions, sounding suspicious.

Betty nods, already fearing what’s to come. “Something like that,”

“Why didn’t you call Chic?” He demands.

She frowns at the mention of her brother’s name. “Why would I call Chic? He left me here, with _her_ and left no forwarding address. Even if I did want to call him, I have no idea where he is.”

“Betty, he’s in New York,” Veronica tells her. “We see him all the time.”

“I’ll call him,” Archie offers, somewhat kindly. “He’ll help you Betty, he’ll be more than happy to help you.”

She and Jughead share a troubled look.

“Help me?” Betty echoes.

He nods. “Well, yeah. He’s a lawyer now, a really good one, and he’d make a better guardian for you, until you’re ready to make decisions on your own, of course.”

She stares at him blankly, waiting for the punch line, because he has to be joking.

But he’s not.

“Arch,” Betty shakes her head. “I don’t _want_ Chic to be my guardian.”

“Sure you do,” Archie insists, not catching onto her discomfort as easily as he used to. “Come on Betty, he’s your brother, you’d be much better off with Chic than you are with Jughead.”

“I’m fine here,” she tells him. _“with Jughead.”_

“Betty,” disapproval drips from his tone. “Chic is a very successful lawyer with a walkup apartment overlooking Park Avenue, while Jughead’s...”

“What, Arch?” Jughead deadpans, “What am I?”

“...A _Serpent.”_

Betty smacks him across the face, electing a startled gasp from Veronica, though her one time best friend does nothing to protest the slap.

“Fuck off Archie,” she sneers, grabbing Jughead’s hand, pulling him after her.

* * *

They don’t talk about it, but sometimes he seems distant and she can’t help but wonder if he’s thinking that she would be better off somewhere else too.

She wouldn’t.

* * *

_“Oh, my little star sweeper, I’ll sweep the stardust for you,”_

The baby in her arms coos happily, and Betty beams. Little Annabelle Marie, daughter to an elder Serpent couple, is absolutely precious. She cherishes every moment she gets with the three month old currently nestled in the crook of her arm.

“Knock knock,” Penny calls, sweeping in.

She holds onto the baby a little tighter. “Hey Penny,”

“Hi,” the woman replies, shortly. “is Jones around?”

Betty shakes her head. “He had some... business.”

Ventures he was still unwilling to share with her.

Penny nods in understanding, throwing a folder down onto the coffee table. “I just brought over some papers he was asking about... Tell him I stopped by.”

“I will,”

Annabelle starts to fuss, and Betty gently jostles her up and down.

“Hey,” Penny’s tone is softer than usual. “Annabelle Higgins, you stop that now. There’s nothing to be upset about, sweetheart.”

Much to her surprise, the baby stops crying.

“You’re good at that,” Betty blurts out before she can stop herself, watching as Penny brushes Annabelle’s head with the palm of her hand. “Do you have any children?”

An unreadable expression crosses her face.

“I did,” she confesses. “I had a daughter once.”

Her heart hurts a little.

“Did?” Betty repeats.

Penny’s eyes harden.

“Never mind,” she snaps, heading for the door. “tell Jones I brought what he asked for.”

* * *

Her curiosity gets the better of her.

When Annabelle falls asleep, she opens the folder, and tears fill her eyes.

It’s paperwork, for her, to be her own guardian again.

* * *

She doesn’t bring it up until Annabelle is safely out the door with her happy parents.

“Jug,”

Betty throws the folder down onto the kitchen island.

He curses under his breath, grabbing the folder, tucking it under his arm. “You weren’t supposed to see that yet.”

“Why?” She demands, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Juggie, I’m not ready.”

“I know,” Jughead sighs, cradling her face. “I know you’re not baby, but if anything were to ever happen... I don’t want anyone else to have you. Not your mom, not your brother, and definitely not Archie or Veronica. I would want you to be your own person Betts, make your own decisions again.”

“If anything were to ever... Jug, _stop.”_

“He’s right Betty,” he hisses, moving away from her. “I am a Serpent, I’m their fuckin’ leader, which means I’ll never be completely... _safe.”_

“Don’t,” Betty pleads, pressing her scarred palms to his cheeks. “Don’t let Archie get in your head Jug, _please.”_

He cups her arms. “Betty-”

“I need you Jug,” she whispers, letting her weight fall into him. “I need you.”

“Fuck baby, you know I need you too...”

“I’m only gonna say this once,” Betty manages to regain some composure. “I love you, Jughead Jones, and I’m in. No matter what, I’m all in.”

He covers her mouth with his, bowing her back until they reach the bedroom.

* * *

They don’t stop this time.

* * *

Later, as they lay tangled up in bed, neither of them wearing a thing, a thought comes back to her.

“Jug?”

He strokes her hair back. “Hmm?”

“Did you know that Penny had a kid once?”

Jughead looks taken aback. “Um... No, I didn’t.”

She’s slowly drifting off to sleep.

“I wonder what happened to her.”

* * *

There’s a heavy knock against the door.

Betty smiles at Jughead’s groan. Gently, he shifts her legs from his lap and stands up to answer it.

“Chic,” he says, sounding surprised.

* * *

“You’re coming with me,”

“The hell I am,” Betty hisses.

Jughead extends his arm in front of her, keeping her in her seat.

“No offense Chic,” he still sounds offended. “but I’m Betty’s guardian, and you can’t take her anywhere without my permission.”

Her brother snorts. “I’m a _lawyer,_ Jughead, I could have guardianship of Betty by the end of the week.”

“But you won’t,” Betty says.

“Oh yes I will,” Chic challenges. He’s sitting across from her, looking less and less like the boy that used to pin her down just to shove his smelly socks in her face. “You don’t have a choice here, either of you.”

Jughead’s jaw tightens. “Get out.”

“I will,” he agrees. “when my sister finally comes to her senses and realizes that she belongs with me, in the city.”

“I don’t belong there,” she cries. “I never did. I belong here, with Jughead.”

“Oh Betty,” Chic laughs bitterly. “You’re still so naïve.”

“Chic-”

“He’s a criminal, Betty!” He snaps. “He breaks the law, _all the time._ Whoever the judge was that gave him guardianship over you was an idiot. If he knew _half_ of the things Jughead, here, has done...”

“Shut up,” Betty whispers, nails inching inwards towards her palms. “Just shut the hell up Chic, and get out. Right now.”

“I’m not leaving without you,” he insists.

“She said she wants you to leave,” Jughead rises, making a sweeping gesture towards the front door.

“She has no idea what she’s gotten herself into with you,” Chic seethes, standing up, but making no moves to leave.

The protective tone in his voice is all too familiar.

“Does she know what the Serpents are all about?” He demands.

A look of pain crosses her boyfriend’s face. “Of course not, I would never let her get involved in anything-”

“Because I know,” Chic steps closer. “I know _everything_ , Jones, and if you don’t sign over guardianship of my sister to me...”

It’s not a threat, but a promise.

“Stop!” Betty forces herself between the two of them, turning to face her brother. “Stop it Chic, leave him alone. I’ll go with you, right now, but just... just leave Jughead and the Serpents alone. Please.”

Jughead makes a grab for her arm. “Betty, no-”

“Good,” Chic smiles, gently pushing her towards the door. “It’s settled then. Come on little sister, we’ll stay the night in a hotel. Jughead, I’ll leave the paperwork with you. All you have to do is sign the dotted line.”

“No,”

“Excuse me?”

“I said,” he pulled Betty back towards him. “no. Do whatever you want to me, Chic, I don’t give a shit, but you can’t have Betty.”

How many times is he going to put himself on the line for her?

Chic’s eyes soften.

“You love her,” he states.

Jughead nods. “More than anything,”

“I’m sorry,” he offers, and to give him credit, he does sound it. “I know this can’t be easy for you, Jughead, but if you really love my sister... you’ll let her go.”

Betty gasps. “Chic.”

“What kind of life can she have here, Jug,” Chic continues, ignoring her. “I mean, really? In New York, she can attend NYU like she always wanted, she can’t get a job writing for the New York Times... She can be happy. She deserves to be happy.”

He’ll never understand, understand that she _is_ happy, here in Jughead’s sprawling apartment, at her quaint little community college, with the Serpents. She’s happy here, and more importantly, she’s _safe._

“Go,”

Her heart shatters.

“W-What?” She manages to choke out. “Jug...”

He touches her cheek with a single finger.

His eyes are red, bloodshot, like he’s trying to hold back his own tears.

“Go Betty,” Jughead repeats. “Chic is right, this isn’t the life I wanted you to have.”

Betty shakes her head. “Jug-”

“I love you,” he tells her, kissing the top of her head. “I love you so much, Elizabeth Cooper. I love you enough to let you go.”

Chic takes hold of her arm, leading her stunned and dazed body out of the apartment.

“I’ll send for the paperwork in the morning,” he says, and slams the door shut behind him.

* * *

Chic spends the cab ride telling her how much she’ll love the city, but she barely hears him.

He let her go.

He’s broken his promise and let her go, and she’s not sure she’ll ever feel anything again.

Habitually, Betty glances at the bracelet on her wrist for comfort.

And then it hits her.

The bracelet.

Jughead’s bracelet, the one he cuffed to her the night Sweet Pea, Toni, Fangs and Joaquin brought her to him. He didn’t take it off.

She’s still his. She’ll always be his.

She’s making a big mistake.

“Stop!” Betty cries, and when the cab driver slams on his break, staring at her in alarm, she bolts from the back of the yellow vehicle.

“Betty!” Chic shouts, chasing after her.

He grabs her arm, forcing her around.

“What the hell are you doing?” He demands, trying to drag her back. “Come on, we have to.”

Betty shakes her head, freeing herself from his grasp. “I’m going home.”

“That’s where I’m trying to take you...”

“Not your home, Chic,” she sighs. _“my_ home. Jughead’s home.”

“But we agreed-”

“No Charles, _you_ agreed,” Betty hisses. “More like _bullied_ me and my boyfriend to try and get your way. Well I’m not going to put up with it. I spent nineteen years living in fear because of our mother. I won’t let you treat me the same way.”

Chic reels back as if she’s slapped him.

“I am _not_ our mother,” he grits out. “or our father.”

“Then prove it,” she challenges. “let me go, Chic, let me escape like you and Polly did all those years ago. Let me be happy.”

She spins on her heel, runs off.

He doesn’t chase after her.

* * *

She has to bang against the door several times before it finally swings open.

“What-” He starts to demand, but upon seeing her, drenched from an unpredicted rain storm, he quickly tails off.

“Jug...”

It’s all she manages to say. He grabs her up in a bear hug, swinging her into the apartment, the door slamming shut behind him.

He forces her up against it, takes a moment to slap all the locks into place.

“Jesus Christ,” Jughead hisses, peeling her sopping shirt from her body. “you’re gonna get sick again.”

Her teeth chatter.

“Warm me up then,” Betty teases, shivering.

Growling, he tosses her over his shoulder, throws her down onto the bed when they finally make it there.

“I’m sorry,” he says, kicking off his shoes, unlooping his belt, sliding his jeans down his long legs. “I’m so fucking sorry baby.”

“I’m yours,” she whispers, as his mouth frantically explores her neck and shoulder. “Juggie, I’m yours, I’ve always been yours.”

“Damn fucking right you are,” Jughead makes quick work of her bra, leggings, panties, leaving her bare beneath him. “You are mine, always have been, always will be.”

They forego the foreplay they thoroughly explored their first time together, the need to be completely connected going above and beyond all other rationality. He enters her with a single thrust, fingers threading through her hair at the base of her neck, moving the stringy strands away before they can stick to her skin.

“I love you Juggie,” Betty manages. “I love you so much. I love that you saved me, I love that you ruined all other boys for me when you kissed me when you were sixteen, I love that you claimed me as yours before we even knew what this would turn into. I. Love. You.”

“Fuck,” he peppers kisses to her shoulder. “I love you too, Elizabeth Cooper, so much. I’m never letting you go again.”

* * *

“I’m gonna kill you,” she hisses, as Jughead lets all three of them into the apartment.

“Hey,” he catches her around the waist before she can launch herself over the couch to attack Archie. “easy. That’s not why I brought him here, baby.”

“I’m sorry,” Archie says, and Betty thinks she can still read him well enough to know that he’s being sincere. “Really, I’m sorry Betty.”

“Why would you call him?” Betty demands.

“He thought he was saving you,” Kevin offers.

 _“Why_ did you want to save her?” Even Veronica sounds suspicious. “You were so desperate to get her away from Jughead... Archie, do you... Do you _have feelings for Betty?”_

A horrified look crosses her old friend’s face. “No! God, _no.”_

“Then why would you-”

“I know why,” Jughead grips Betty’s hand in his, squeezing it softly.

Veronica crosses her arms. “Spill Jones,”

“Yes ma’am.” He rolls his eyes. “Archie doesn’t love Betty, at least not _that_ way, which I’m grateful for Arch, by the way. If there’s one thing I know about my best friend Archie Andrews, it’s that the kid has a hero complex. He wants to save anything and everything he cares about.”

Betty nods slowly in agreement. It makes complete sense.

“So... You were angry that Jughead saved Betty first?”

Archie blinks, as if the realization is finally dawning on him. “Maybe?”

“Archie,” Betty laughs sadly. “I never needed you to save me.”

He shrugs, not accepting it. “I still should have been there. You’re my best friend, Betty, and I should have been there.”

Slipping from under Jughead’s arm, she wraps her own around him, Veronica and Kevin joining in.

“You’re here now,”

Archie holds his hand out, a silent invitation for Jughead to accept it. After a second, he does.

“For both of you,” he promises.

* * *

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Jughead moves to stand behind her, wrapping an arm securely around her waist.

Chic slowly raises his hands in surrender.

“I just want to talk,” he says.

Jughead and Betty share a look.

“Five minutes,” her boyfriend says, pulling her down onto his lap.

She’s grateful for his mere presence.

“I went to see mom,” Chic tells her.

Betty blinks, surprised.

“Why?” She finally asks.

“Because I realized you were right,” he sighs, raking a hand through his cropped hair. “Polly and I... We did escape, but we also left you behind... when we knew that you had it the worst.”

Her hands tremble, and Jughead is quick to cover them with his own. “Chic, why are you bringing this up now-”

“I had to know,” Chic says. “I had to know _why_ you had it worse, why she was so dead set against making you the problem child and... I finally got an answer.”

“Chic...”

“She told me that she could never love a child that _wasn’t her own.”_

Betty’s jaw falls. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” he sighs again. “Betty, you were adopted.”

* * *

She doesn’t have to think twice about who her true mother is.

* * *

Penny operates her law office in the back of a tattoo shop.

Jughead offers to come with her, but she declines, telling him that this is something she needs to do by herself. He kisses her softly, tells her that he believes in her again.

* * *

“Sorry, I’m not taking any new cases...” Penny glances up, trails off. “Betty. What... what are you doing here so late?”

“I have a problem,” she admits, tugging at the sleeves of her shirt to avoid digging her nails in. “and I was hoping you could help me with it.”

“Sure,” the woman replies, without hesitation. “anything. What’s going on?”

“Well you see...”

She takes Penny’s hand.

“I’ve spent nineteen years calling the wrong woman _mom_ , and-”

Penny embraces her.

* * *

Justice, Betty thinks, is a wonderful thing.

She’s not exactly sure how they got away with it, because Alice’s story has changed too many times to count, but they let Penny believe that her daughter died in child birth simply because they couldn’t stand the thought Hal’s daughter, wanted or not, being raised in the Southside. By a Serpent.

Penny acts as her own lawyer, and absolutely kills it.

Alice is sentenced to twenty years in prison. She deserves it.

* * *

“You look beautiful baby sister,” Polly tells her earnestly, adjusting the flowers in her hair.

Betty merely smiles. They’re still not close, but they are trying and that’s what counts.

“You really do, B,” Veronica dabs at her eyes with a tissue.

“You are the only person I will ever wear a pink dress for,” Toni warns her playfully.

“TT,” Cheryl, Betty’s long lost cousin, chides. “it’s not pink, it’s _cream._ Oh my sweet little tom boy, you are too precious.”

“I don’t like it either,” Jellybean grumbles, but there’s a smile on her face, and Betty thinks that she may be enjoying it more than she’ll ever let on.

“Oh, the music’s starting!” Veronica quickly rushes everyone into formation, standing directly in front of Toni.

It was a hard decision, though she knows she’s made the right choice. Veronica will always be her best friend, but so will Toni, and it’s because of Toni that she ended up with Jughead in the first place.

They move down the line in perfect sequence.

* * *

Penny’s waiting for her.

“You sure about this, kiddo?” She teases.

Betty beams. “Of course, _mom.”_

She’s sure she sees a tear forming in her mother’s eye, but she dabs it away and holds her arm out for Betty to take.

“I love you,” she whispers.

Penny smiles, pulling her forward.

“I love you,” she replies. “my beautiful daughter.”

* * *

Their vows are both handwritten, and while it’s not a competition, Jughead most certainly wins.

“Elizabeth Victoria Peabody,” he smiles at the use of her new, and soon to be former last name. “I have loved you since the first time I saw you, holding Archie in a headlock in his back yard because he threw your favorite Barbie onto the roof of his house.”

Betty lets out a sobbing laugh. They’d found the Barbie years later while cleaning the drains for Mr. Andrews. It was missing its head.

“I love you, Betty,” Jughead says, squeezing her hand. “I love your laugh, your smile, your caring nature and that face you make when something you’re mad at me. I promise to support you, to honor you and to love you unconditionally. You are my everything, Betts, you are the light to my darkness and you have shown me more love than I've ever known. I am so happy that I can finally make you mine, _officially_ , and you should know, I never plan on letting you go. I knew from the very moment I laid eyes on you that you were my forever. Someway, somehow, I was determined to make you mine, and from this day forward my heart is entirely yours, as it always has been.”

Tears fill her eyes.

It’s her turn.

“Forsythe Pendleton Jones the third,” Betty recites, fingers trembling. “I feel so overwhelmingly lucky and proud to be standing beside you today. Thank you, for accepting me for all that I am, my darkness, my light, everything that makes me what and who I am. I promise to always remember that you are indeed human, that you may sometimes make questionable decisions, like eating three pizzas in one sitting...”

The audience, their friends and family, laughs.

“Don’t knock it till you try it, baby,” he mutters, grinning.

“You are my best friend, Jughead Jones, my biggest supporter and the only one I feel that I can truly be myself with, and I love you more than I could ever love anyone. Ever.”

“Elizabeth, today you will become my wife. I promise to love you with all my heart, from now until eternity. I cannot wait to begin building our life together.”

“Elizabeth,” the minister mutters. “your turn.”

“Jughead, today you will become my husband. I promise to love you with all my heart, from now until eternity. I _really_ cannot wait to begin building our life together.”

He snorts.

“Let us proceed,” the man in the white robe announces. “Jughead and Elizabeth, it's time to join hands.”

No one has to tell them twice. Their fingers interlace.

“Jughead, before your family and friends, do you take Elizabeth as your beloved Wife, to have and to hold, through laughter and in sadness, through challenges and successes, so long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” he says, without hesitation.

“Elizabeth, before your family and friends, do you take Jughead as your beloved Husband, to have and to hold, through laughter and in sadness, through challenges and successes, so long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” Betty whispers, blinking back tears.

“Wedding rings are a traditional symbol of the strength of the bond between two soulmates,” he tells the crowd. “this bond is never broken, and continues in a perpetual circle, glowing with the warmth and eternal light of two souls in a perfect union. By wearing these rings, you will be always reminded of the connection you share and the vows you have made today. Please repeat after me: I, Jughead, present you, Elizabeth, with this ring as a symbol of our everlasting love. Let it never lose its luster, just as my love for you will never fade.”

He slips the simple wedding band onto her finger.

They thought about using his mother’s, trying to make it lucky again, but decided against it, wanting their own beginning, not a memory of his parents failed marriage.

“I, Jughead, present you, Elizabeth, with this ring as a symbol of our everlasting love. Let it never lose its luster, just as my love for you will never fade.” He squeezes her hand. “I love you, Betts.”

“I, Elizabeth, present you, Jughead, with this ring as a symbol of our everlasting love. Let it never lose its luster, just as my love for you will never fade.”

“I, Elizabeth, present you, Jughead, with this ring as a symbol of our everlasting love. Let it never lose its luster, just as my love for you will never fade.” She grins up at him. “I love you, Juggie.”

“By the power vested in me by the city of Riverdale, under the eyes of the Universe, I happily pronounce you Husband and Wife. Jughead, you may now kiss the Bride.”

His arms wrap around her in a tight hold. Yanking the veil away, his mouth closes over hers.

Seconds later, he picks her up, spinning her around just to make her laugh.

* * *

“Can we exchange presents now?” He asks, as he carries her over the threshold.

A honeymoon isn’t in the cards, at least not now, with her finals coming up and the Serpents seemingly busier than ever, but they have both cleared their schedules for a few days of nothing but peace and quiet, their bed and each other.

“Idiot,” Betty teases, as he playfully dumps her on the couch in retaliation. “We weren’t supposed to get each other anything... but I did.”

Jughead grins sheepishly at her. “So did I, Mrs. Jones.”

 _Mrs. Jones._ She’ll never get tired of hearing it.

She is no longer Elizabeth Cooper, but Elizabeth Victoria Peabody Jones, Betty P. Jones, Betty Peabody-Jones, and she loves the sound it it no matter which way.

They retreat to their bedroom, where he helps her out of the poufy but still beautiful gown Veronica and Cheryl talked her into, and into one of his t-shirts.

“I wanna go first,” he says, handing her a set of rolled up blue prints, tied together with a hastily wound up red ribbon.

Betty giggles at his wrapping job, undoing it with ease.

 _Betty’s_ , it reads in the top left corner.

It’s plans, for a garage, for a future. She stares up at him, misty eyed.

“Jug...” She croaks.

“The Serpents are going legit,” Jughead tells her, grinning. “Well, _mostly.”_

Betty snorts. He still hasn’t shared everything his gang is involved in, but she knows that it’s for the betterment of the changing Southside and she still trusts him with everything she has.

“A garage? Named after me?”

“This seemed like the best place to start,” he replies. “and anyway, I can’t wait to see my little greaser babe get down and dirty to fix some cars... if you want to, that is.”

She can’t believe he remembers.

“I haven’t touched a car in years,” she admits shyly.

He nudges her gently.

“We’ll work on it,”

Betty smiles at the familiarity of his word. “Thank you Jug, I love it, and you... My turn.”

“Love you too baby,” he holds his hands out expectantly.

Taking a deep breath, she hands him the forms.

“Betts...”

“My mom’s ready to file them,” Betty tells him. “I love you so much, Jughead Jones, I couldn’t have done this... I couldn’t have _healed_ without you.”

Letting the papers fall carelessly to the bed, he grabs her, kissing her hard on the mouth.

“It was all you baby,” he mutters. “but Betts, there’s one missing.”

She shakes her head. “No, they’re all there.”

“Betty...”

“Jughead, you’re the one one I’ll ever trust with this,” Betty holds her hands out for him to inspect.

There’s slight crescent marks above the scars of her palms.

“Fuck,” Jughead kisses them gently. “I hate that you do this baby.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to stop,” she confesses. “but I want to keep working on it... I want to reach for your hands first. I want you to be the one to make my medical choices for me, Jughead, because you know what’s best for me. Please, just hold onto that for me.”

“Always,” he promises, and kisses her again.

* * *

She slips out of his embrace to take a test later that night.

Two pink lines appear.

* * *

He cries when she tells him, promises to be a better parent than any of theirs ever were.

* * *

Penny cries too, tells Betty that the “kid” will not be calling her “grandma” but rather “Penny” because she is “too young to be a grandmother” and then cries a little more.

* * *

“Dax,”

“No.”

“Dexter.”

_“No.”_

“...Forsyth?”

They both burst out laughing.

Betty throws some of her popcorn, giggles when he manages to still catch it. “You’re assuming the baby will be a boy,”

Jughead shrugs. “We agreed not to find out.”

“But we still need a name, for both sexes.”

He moves to sit beside her, sliding an arm across her shoulders, hand settling on her growing belly.

“And we’ll find one,” he promises her. “don’t worry so much baby, it’s not like we’re gonna wait till the last minute.”

* * *

_“Forsythe Pendleton Jones!”_

Penny pets her hair back, shooting Jughead an aloof grin. “Aren’t you glad she asked you to keep power of attorney over her medical decisions?”

Jughead ignores her, calling for the nurses again, _please,_ to give her something to make her more comfortable, and probably a little less hostile.

“I can’t believe we waited until the last minute to pick a name,” Betty hisses, through clenched teeth.

“It’ll be okay baby,” he promises, kissing her forehead. “we’ll think of something.”

* * *

The second she sees her daughter, only one name comes to mind.

_Hey Juliet._

It’s what Jughead said to her the day he snuck through her bedroom to say goodbye, when he kissed her for the first time.

“Juliette,” she whispers, preferring the alternate spelling. “Juliette Audrey Jones.”

Jughead grins, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“It’s perfect.”

* * *

Juliette Audrey Jones, seven pounds, nine ounces, is everything Betty never knew she needed. Well that, and her father, grandmother, who proudly coos over the precious baby in the corner, her aunts Jellybean and Polly, uncle Chic, and the unofficial family members that crowd into the room, Sweet Pea, Fangs, Joaquin and Kevin, who’s already robbed Riverdale of half the clothes they have for baby girls with his “scary intuition” that the baby would indeed be female, Toni and Cheryl, sitting beside the bed, talking amongst themselves, squeezing her hand every so often, Archie and Veronica, arms around each other, grinning happily at her, waitinf for a turn to hold Juliette, whenever Penny is done hogging her, that is.

And FP, who can’t be there physically, but she still feels his calming presence, and she hopes Jughead can too.

“Hey,” her husband kisses the top of her head. “what are you thinking about, baby?”

She smiles, tilting her head up to chase his lips in a short, sweet kiss.

“This,” Betty tells him. “Us, everything... This is all I ever wanted, and now, I finally have it.”

“Mhhm,” Jughead agrees, grinning. “I love you, Elizabeth Peabody Jones.”

“Jughead Jones,” she returns, beaming at him. “I love you.”


End file.
